


into this world he entered quietly. -

by honestfeathers



Series: somnus. [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anyway uh, Gen, Light Angst, Near Death, Nobody Dies, Sad with a Happy Ending, Scared Regis Lucis Caelum, and i forgot, barely even there, but its a near thing, down with capitalism, i guess, i guess?, its not the spanish translation though, no beta we die like clarus amicitia, no like it's super fuckin light, please dont ask me what the parra is because i wrote this forever ago, prologue? i guess? kinda? idk, this is probably the only series im using proper capitalisation btw, uh i would just. proceed with caution if potential child death makes you uncomfy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestfeathers/pseuds/honestfeathers
Summary: It was with great persuasion and the near-use of a royal decree that Aulea was allowed to hold Noctis through the night, Regis by her side. Noctis lie sleeping, as he has since his birth, curled up and serene on his mother’s bosom, quiet as a mouse and still as a statue. Had Regis not been looking so closely for the gentle rise and fall of his small, delicate torso with his breaths, he would have thought his son already dead. Even the mere idea frightened him to no end.Despite their wishes, their valiant efforts to stay awake and savour the time they had with their sickly infant son, sleep took them both sometime in the night, and for once since Noctis’s birth - they felt peace.
Series: somnus. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1253069
Kudos: 10





	into this world he entered quietly. -

“Please, my son, let me hold my son-”

“Majesty, he’s ill-”

“Doctor, if you would… Please just let my wife and I hold our son. Even if he is ill, should he die before knowing our embrace - neither of us would be able to take it. Please.”

Sighing, the doctor nods, and the infant child is handed first to his desperate mother, pressed to her bosom with care and love only a mother could hold her child with. Pressing a delicate kiss to the side of her son’s head, she passes him to her husband.

“Noctis,” she murmurs as she hands off their son to his father. “His name is Noctis. Should he live or, or die-” a deep breath- “his name is Noctis and he is our son, in life and in death. I refuse to allow it, I refuse to bury my own son, but should he die today, he will not die nameless. I will not give a name to a corpse.”

“Noctis,” Regis says. A small smile forms on his face, even as tears gather in his eyes, even as he gazes upon his quiet, newborn, sickly son. “Noctis, my son, my pride and joy. You’ve done nothing yet, little one, not even wail as newborns so often do, but you can do such wonderful things later on. You simply have to make it through the night, my son, that’s all,” the King mumbles, his forehead pressed to his son’s as he speaks. Sorrow warps his voice as it leaves him; choked back sobs woven between syllables, buried beneath careful intonation as he stares down at the infant, at _Noctis_ . This is his son, his _only son_ in his arms, and he’s sleepy and cute and so, _so tiny,_ and he’s about to be taken from this world before he’s even opened his eyes to see it.

It was with great persuasion and the near-use of a royal decree that Aulea was allowed to hold Noctis through the night, Regis by her side. Noctis lie sleeping, as he has since his birth, curled up and serene on his mother’s bosom, quiet as a mouse and still as a statue. Had Regis not been looking so closely for the gentle rise and fall of his small, delicate torso with his breaths, he would have thought his son already dead. Even the mere idea frightened him to no end.

Despite their wishes, their valiant efforts to stay awake and savour the time they had with their sickly infant son, sleep took them both sometime in the night, and for once since Noctis’s birth - they felt peace.

Gently, with the faintest of footsteps beneath her feet, a young woman approaches the family. Little Noctis is almost out of time, she knows, and she knows she has to take him, but she can’t. Not this one. She’s gentle as she holds him, long hair swaying in front of her as she reaches for him from his mother’s breast. She sees him stir, but hushes him.

“Not now, Little Noctis. If you wake up now, I won’t be able to help you,” she murmurs, a soft lullaby beneath her voice as Noctis calms, falling into slumber again. A gentle smile stretches across her face at the sleeping infant, “I can’t take you yet, Little King, it’ll break their hearts if I do. I’ll cut you a deal, little one - I know you can hear me. Live, little one, and do what you’re meant to do. I’ll take my half of the bargain then, okay? But you have to live for now, Little Noctis.” A small kiss to the infant’s forehead, and soft blue light burst from Noctis’s chest before vanishing. The Mark of the Parra, she smiled. Little Noctis would live.

_\- to his surprise, he was the one; the_ _phantom of borrowed life._

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on social media!
> 
> twt: honestfeathers / eraserxhead  
> curiouscat: goldentae


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